She was so beautiful.
She deserved to know what the hell she was getting into with me.
So, for some incredibly ridiculous reason, I admitted, “I’ve been in love with Eliza for years. It’s just easier to avoid her.”
Only the second the words were spoken, it didn’t feel like an admission at all.
It didn’t feel like anything actually.
Not the truth.
Or a lie.
They just felt like words.
“Ewwww!” Ash cried. “You’re in love with your mom?”
“No. She’s not my mom,” I defended.
“You said she and Till raised you guys.”
“I mean, they did. But . . . she’s not my mom.”
“Whatever you think.” She laughed and went back to staring at the stars.
She didn’t speak again for several minutes, and it began to unnerve me. I regretted my decision to tell her. I mean, what the actual hell had I possibly thought I could gain from sharing something like that?
Hey, look. I’m disabled and in love with another woman. Please be with me?
“I mean, it’s not like I’m trying to be with her or anything,” I clarified. “Really, it’s no big deal.”
“Nah. I get it. You have an Oedipus complex?”
“I don’t have an Oedipus complex! She’s not my mom!” I yelled, and she burst out laughing.
That conversation with anyone else would have sent me into a fit of rage, but watching Ash roll around in some dirty weeds while she laughed so hard that tears spilled from her eyes did the opposite.
I didn’t even feel numb.
I felt everything for the first time in as long as I could remember.
Probably too much, actually.
Maybe Ash wasn’t a thief at all.
Because she had given me back far more than she could ever take.
Every single word of his confession was like a jagged knife to the heart.
I tried to keep my reaction locked away, but when the tears fell from my eyes, I covered it with a large dose of artificial laughter. I could con Flint into thinking it was funny, but there was nothing I could do to con myself.
I was in love with Flint Page.
And he was in love with someone else.
I didn’t have much experience with relationships. As far as I was concerned, fairytales were real and love only came once in a lifetime, and I had just used mine on a boy who had already given his to another girl.
It didn’t matter that he could never have her. Or that he was watching me with a warm, content smile unlike anything I’d ever seen. All I’d heard in his admission was that I would never truly have him.
I wished I had never asked him about Eliza. I could have lived a thousand lifetimes without knowing how he felt about her. Or, better yet, how he didn’t feel about me. But I hadn’t once expected that to be his answer. I’d just wanted some dirt on her and Till. Dirt that would make me feel better about allowing my father to take Quarry from them.
Only hours earlier, I’d overheard—or, more accurately, recorded—a conversation between Ray and Debbie. It should be known that I’d seen my father do a lot of despicable things, but Debbie had taken it to a whole new level. She knew precisely how much Till loved his brothers and exactly how far he would go to keep his family together. Till probably would have paid them a hefty sum of money to disappear or sign the custody paperwork. However, what Debbie had masterminded had guaranteed a whole lot more than just a hefty sum. The plan was simple. Get custody of Quarry, move him across the country, and cut Till off completely. Then, after a few months, once Till and Eliza got desperate, basically sell him back to them.
They were both aware that getting actual custody of Q wasn’t going to be an easy feat. No judge in his right mind would place him with loser Debbie Mabie over celebrity “The Silencer” Till Page. But just last week, a judge and a date had been assigned to Quarry’s custody case. My father had called in some favors, and within twenty-four hours, he’d had more than enough pictures of that judge with his mistress to secure a win for Team Mabie. With part one done, I knew that part two would be moving. And while I had already decided I wasn’t going with them this time, I knew that Q wouldn’t have that choice.
My conscience had needed Till and Eliza to be assholes who deserved that.
Unfortunately, I’d gotten far more than I’d bargained for.
He was in love with her.
“Thank you,” Flint said as I finally got my emotions under control and was able to give up the show of laughter.
“For what?”
“Being weird. And making me lie under the stars on a pile of weeds.” He brushed a hair off my face. “And for calling me Wheels.”
My head snapped to his. “You hate that nickname.”
“Yeah. It’s really fucking rude.” He laughed. “But it’s also a truth that doesn’t necessarily have to be taken as an insult. You’ve never pitied me, Ash. Not even for being a sad bastard with an Oedipus complex.”